The Last breaths of the emperor of the Kingdom of mirage

Walking
covering with masks, hiding the outdated wrinkles
Carrying graves on their shoulders
Carrying their souls into the unknown coming behind the unknown distant
accompanying one another
Boys
youths and full ages
lad and whores,
together
chanting unscaled screams
Only .. Filling the vacuum imagination... Filling the nowhere
Trembles with their spells the hearts of the stranger dark,
They choose to be
Not to not be,
knives
arrows
barricades
knifes
daggers
Swords
Eyes
Witches
astrologers
And a lean poet
Combing the vulgar dust with their sandals
alternating the burned quilts
Breathe the eternal death
Tearing the newborn air,
To scream at them a great female voice suddenly:
What do you do in a land that is destined to not be stepped by a creature
What do you do in my kingdom
Did not you read the inscription on the clouds
That there is no salvation to a wayfarer
Did not you read the earlier what on the walls of your gods’ temples
That will live in eternal red who consuming a handful of my air
and you dare to whisper in my emptiness !!!
Bow down to the Majesty...me … I am the gods of silence
Otherwise; you will become dust with a great blowing.
The ground began shaking under their feet... they hear the howling of Cerberus
the sommelier utter:
We’re yours
A boy shout:
We’re yours
A knight Invoked:
Have my swords
an astrologer wave:
Take my spells
A Centaur the half human a loud screams:
yours are my wings
A Poet was guffawing and…
Guffawing and pointing with his finger at the phantasm of the god,
they stared at him madly
And saying cursing: What’s in your thoughts, O foolish
What are you doing, descendant of the ink!!
throw your inkwell to hell
throw your craziness unless we will be rolled into the spiral of fire,
What are you doing, son of the ink’s ash!!
What are you doing idiot!!!
Throw your imagination into the abyss of silence
Throw it and attach your silence with humility
there is no declared direction for us if did not obey.

Opening his arms
closing his eyes
with a crazy chuckling
He raised his head
And pronounced by the imagination of his vague tongue:
I'm the son of the directions’ scriptures
I am the descendant of people of the word
I am who had been cursed by Mesopotamia’s spells
I'm not only one
I’m the unknown.
To excited by his utterance the skies of the vacuum of silence’s god
Revolted the tufts of her gray hair, and said:
Do you dare to oppose my existence?
And rushed her curses like angry meteors
To turn the poet in an instant to burned phoenix
And spelled the curse:
An Eternity burn you will live
It’s ashes what will you born of every hundred year
So last with your arrogance O the hallucinations’ believer
And live your immortality … but as unseen myth.

The Phoenix shouted, fluttered
Then flew, to disappear between the clouds shouting.
She whispered to the wayfarers nastily:
You are coursed O Kardox
It’s coursed, your history which will you live
No lands will be yours
No sky will receive your prayers
You will be only everlasting stranger.
Then she vanished as an illusion in the emptiness of the course silence.

Thousands years
And are still looking for phoenix
And a spell to unlock the curse on our history.